


Close Your Eyes, Sammy

by AnotherReasonToFight



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Death(ish), Episode 10X23 - Brother's Keeper, Gen, Spoilers, he's more mentioned in passing, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-04-06 13:13:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4223037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherReasonToFight/pseuds/AnotherReasonToFight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A scream fought at the base of his throat. Fighting to break free and yell at Sam that he should be anything but understanding. That Sammy should fight this tooth and nail because everything about this situation was wrong.</p>
<p>(Tags/Spoilers to 10X23 - Brother's Keeper)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Close Your Eyes, Sammy

**Author's Note:**

> This idea kinda derailed my during the middle of writing chapter two for my chapter fic, so sorry if you had read that and wanted an update, but it might be another couple of days. I had posted about this idea on my Tumblr though because it kinda hit me and I was like, I gotta write it. So this is that brainchild I suppose.
> 
> Also, just to clarify. Dean is about eight in the first part of this. Direct tags and some dialogue is used from the season ten finale, (10X23 - Brother's Keeper) so...Spoilers? Although I own nothing so, yeah. This is purely fiction.

"Sammy."

Dean heaved the word out on a sigh and closed his eyes in frustration for a moment as he heard the rustle of bed-sheets a few feet behind him. With a soft grumble, he pushed himself up from the seat that he had dragged closer to the front door of the motel room.

"I know that I told you go to sleep like ten minutes ago."

Turning to face the bedroom of the motel, he caught the expression of surprise on his younger brother's face before it morphed into a pout.

"But De, I'm not sleepy!"

The protest was matched with an even deeper pout as the four ("Almost five De!") year old inched farther away from the bed that he had managed to escape from. Dean grimaced, having become accustomed to the wide eyes that Sam had begun to turn on him whenever he wanted something. Although he was anything but immune to him, there were times he had to draw the line.

"Sammy, I told Dad I'd have you in bed over an hour ago," Dean crossed the room and quickly swooped the four year old into his arms, reached up with one hand to switch on the light in the poor excuse for a bedroom while the other held his brother firmly against his chest. "You're lucky I let you stay up this late."

"De! I'm not sleepy. I wanna stay up with you!"

Dean felt his frown soften and internally cursed himself, swearing to strengthen his resolve against his younger brother's protests. Silently, he placed Sam back on the bed that he had escaped from and began to tuck him back under the blankets. As he watched Sam fight back a yawn, an idea struck him.

"Tell you what Sammy, I'll make you a deal." The four year old instantly perked up, eyes widened as he met his older brother's gaze. Dean smiled at him, unable to keep the stern expression on his face any longer. "If you can close your eyes for five minutes, just five, and stay awake, then you can stay up front with me and do whatever you want."

"Really?" Sam narrowed his eyes at Dean for a moment, searching the green eyes for a hint of a lie. "You promise?"

Dean fought back a laugh. "Yeah, Sammy. I promise. Just five minutes and then we can stay up and watch those cartoons you like."

"Five minutes?"

"Five little minutes, Sammy," Dean repeated, holding up one of his hands from pulling the blankets tighter around his brother and wiggling his fingers. His mind continued to chant for Sam to fall asleep, not wanting to face his dad if he found out that Sam hadn't slept at the time he was supposed to, but also knowing that there was no way he would lie to Sammy. If he managed to stay awake the full five minutes, then Dean, of course, would allow him to stay up as late as he was able to.

Another yawn slipped across Sam's face and Dean was unable to keep the chuckle at bay this time.

"Close your eyes."

Dean's voice was almost a whisper as he finished tucking the blanket around his brother's small frame. Sam continued to stare, wide eyed at his older brother, ensuring that he wouldn't go against his promise.

"Sammy, "Dean insisted, "Close your eyes."

With a small nod that he didn't even seem aware of, Sam allowed his eyes to slide shut.

For a moment, Dean stood beside the bed, watching as his brother held his eyes closed, then he moved over the bedroom door, hand lifting to the light switch once again. He paused, eyes looking over his shoulder at the form of his younger brother on the bed.

The blankets shifted with every deep breath that entered his lungs, and Dean know that Sammy had already fallen asleep. Dean smiled to himself, and quickly shut off the harsh light, watching the immediate shift in the room. The window shade was slightly damaged, unable to slide shut the entire way, which allowed some shafts of light from he streetlamp to bleed into the room. Not that it bothered the younger boy any, he was already lost to the world.

Quietly, Dean clicked off the light and left the room, returning to the chair beside the motel door, and continuing his night watch to ensure that Sammy could sleep safely.

***************

Dean could feel the blood that coated his knuckles, even as he drew his arm back and placed another well aimed punch across his brother's face before allowing him to collapse to the floor. He felt sick and he wanted nothing more than to wipe the blood away from his little brother's cheek and reassure him that everything was okay.

Fists uncurling, Dean could only listen to the breathless pants that escaped Sam's lungs. He watched as Sam brushed some of the blood from his face and knew that he should be the one wiping the blood off.

"You will never, ever, hear me say that you...the real you, is anything but good."

Blood splattered against the hard floor as Sam spat it from his mouth. Dean fought the flinch that threatened to wrack through his entire body, not just at the sound of but at the words that spilled from Sam's lips.

His stomach clenched as he watched his little brother pull himself onto his knees, and he couldn't help but feel the gut-wrenching deja vu because hadn't they been in this situation before? Five years ago hadn't Dean been the one insisting that he wouldn't leave, insisting that he stay by Sammy's side, and taking the beating that Lucifer dished out? But that was the thing. It was Lucifer that had beaten him. Lucifer that had bloodied his face before Sammy had put a stop to it. Unfortunately Dean couldn't push the blame onto anyone but himself in this instance.

"But you're right," And wasn't that the last thing that Dean wanted to hear at this moment. "Before you hurt anyone else, you have to be stopped at any costs. I understand."

A scream fought at the base of his throat. Fighting to break free and yell at Sam that he should be anything but understanding. That Sammy should fight this tooth and nail because everything about this situation was wrong.

"Do it."

The two words seemed to weight just as mightily on Sam as they did on Dean, but Death was speaking to him. A part of him knew that he should listen but the words didn't make any sense in his mind. All that entered his mind was the word 'wrong. wrong. wrong,' echoing on repeat around his skull as the scythe was passed into his hands.

All that was left was to turn to face his brother, and the wide hazel eyes that he has seen his entire life. Eyes that were always wide in curiosity, or brimming with intellect, or laughter as he poked fun at his brother's tendencies. Eyes that were currently filled with tears and so much sorrow that Dean couldn't believe that he had put there.

And he couldn't have, because his whole life Dean had worked so goddamn hard to make sure Sammy always had what he wanted, fought to keep the monsters at bay even when Sammy didn't even knew that those disgusting creatures had existed. And of course, it would be Dean that caused so much grief when he had tried to hard to keep it from ever digging it's claws into his little brother. All at once he knew, he knew that he wouldn't be able to go through with this if he could see how much damage his was causing.

"Close your eyes"

It was a sad attempt at a command, and Dean knew it. He could feel the desperation in his own voice and only hoped that Sam wouldn't be able to hear the same weakness. But he could feel the wrongness of this entire situation like an anchor pulling him down into briny depths.

"Sammy, close your eyes."

He fought to keep the tremble out of his voice, to keep it strong, and to keep the complete and drowning anguish from overtaking him. This was for Sammy. Everything, all of this was for Sam, and he had to go through with it.

But he could only stare at the tears that paved their way down Sam's face and know that he was the one that put them there. That he was betraying his brother in the worst way possible.

"Wait."

The plea was spoken softly, just as full of despair as Dean's was, and he could only watch as Sam fumbled in the pockets of his jacket for a second before pulling two slips of paper from their depths.

"Take these. And one day, when you find your way back, let these be your guide. They can help you remember, what it was to be good. what it was to love."

Dean could only watch as trembling fingers gently, almost reverently placed the photographs on the floor. Then his heart raced in his chest in a way that he hadn't felt in years, before he was staring, almost floating really, as any resolve he had formerly build up crumbled beneath his feet.

His mom, and little Sammy stared up at him. And the utter delight on their faces tore his heart to shreds because they shouldn't be here to see what he was about to do, to see what he had become.

And Death was speaking again, his voice slithering into his mind and fueling his belief that he had become a monster that needed to be destroyed, that needed to be taken away before he could cause any more damage. And maybe, as Sam had said, he would be better one day. But then again, what would be the point? What would be the point of being able to love if the only person, he could ever truly love and care for was dead at his own hand?

Dean lifted his gaze. Green eyes met with tear-sparkling hazel.

Sam nodded. And wasn't that the worst? The fact that even after everything, after Dean beat the daylights out of him, and stating that he had to kill him, Sam was still trying to reassure him.

"Forgive me."

The words escaped him before he was able to stop them. Dean stared, searching his brother's eyes for a moment. And maybe that was the worst part of this situation. That he knew, even as he stood over his little brother, his brother who he had protected, and cared for, and loved, for his entire life, even as he stood, with the scythe that seemed impossible heavy, preparing to deliver the final blow, he knew that Sammy would always offer him forgiveness.

Because that's what Sammy did, he loved so purely and wholly, and he was always the one that forgave first because it was the right thing to do. And Sammy was the one that would smile and take things by the grit of his teeth because he was the one that worried about Dean, when Dean was so completely drowning in guilt and anger. Sammy was the one that insisted on hugs, and gifts, and despite everything that he had been through, he was still the sunshine child that Dean remembered chasing after to ensure his safety.

Chest tightening, Dean gripped the scythe tighter, his fingers clenching around the handle as he lifted the blade.

Sam's eyes fluttered shut.

And suddenly Dean was reminded of all the times that he had spoken those words. That he was whispered for Sammy to 'close his eyes' and fall asleep. And of all the times that Sam had protested, fighting with every inch of his will before Dean would continue telling him to close his eyes once again because that was his job. Look after his little brother, make sure he got some shut-eye because what else in the world was there? Was there anything more important in the world than looking after his little brother? Even if there was, Dean was unable to think of it. Not that he wanted to.

The apocalypse? Trivial, because if it meant Sammy wasn't by his side, then the angels could kiss his ass. Shutting the gates of heaven and hell to keep the demons and angels from wreaking more havoc? Tempting at first, but no way because then Sammy would be gone.

Instantly, his mind snapped back to the current situation, and in the split second that he took in Sammy's agonized expression, he made up his mind.

With a heartache he couldn't even begin to express, Dean took a deep breath and swung the scythe.

**Author's Note:**

> I've said this before, and I'll continue to say it. So sorry for any mistakes that are in the story. I sadly am unable to catch every mistake no matter how hard I try. Feel free to review or something if you want to. If you liked it, great! If not, then sorry for wasting your time.
> 
> And, FYI, I've been working on trying to characterize Dean more in my personal time because I've written from Sam's perspective a lot before (Although some of those I refuse to publish), but never from Dean's, so this is me trying to work on Dean's character. Although I hope to get some fics out that do deal more with Sam and his thoughts/actions.


End file.
